The Warrior's Bane (War for the Quarterstar Shards Book 1)

by David L. McDaniel

  “Yes, I will.”

  Blade took the flat of his sword and smacked Kunther on the side of the head, knocking him off balance and causing him to drop back down on both his knees.

  All of the men laughed as Blade offered him his hand.

  “Stand now with us and never break from us, unless in death. I have knocked your old self out of your body and now you stand renewed as a member of Rager’s House of Renegades!”

  Kunther took his hand and stood, picked up his sword, sheathed it and put his hand on his head. That is going to hurt awhile, he thought to himself.

  “We will fill you in with the rest of your vows once we get back. We have a much longer ceremony that involves many more swearing of oaths and a long night of drinking. But that will have to wait until later. Right now, we need to get back to business. But first, we will introduce ourselves.”

  Blade grabbed Kunther’s shoulders and spun him to face the group.

  “Gentlemen, I introduce to you Thorn Blade, his name given to him by me. Talon Blade, as he came to us as a thorn in our side, delivering news of Rock Blade, but now he will fight as one of us. In front of you are all of the members that were with Rock Blade the day he killed Red Blade. Half Blade, our only half elf in our guild, Stolen Blade, Battle Blade, Shadow Blade, Mark Blade, and our fallen archer, Twin Blade.”

  Kunther nodded but felt overwhelmed. He began wondering what he had just agreed to. He had often pretended he was a great warrior, using wooden swords with his friends, but he had never really thought he would actually become one. Well, at least he was now part of a guild with the opportunity to become one.

  “Now take that wagon, hide it deep into that ravine back there and cover it the best you can,” Talon said, barking the orders for the others to follow. “You,” he started, pointing to Kunther. “Take one of the horses from the wagon and transfer your belongings from the pony to it. No Rager is going to ride a pony.”

  Chapter 22

  “I despise waiting,” Fyaa spat out as she twirled her red hair and created tiny sparks in between her long supple fingers.

  Fyaa and Ra-Corsh stood at the edge of a grove of tall pine trees so clustered together that what little sunshine filtered through them only spotted the soft ground and the small fern vegetation with small, flickered dots of light. They waited on the edge of a rocky cliff that overlooked a small rumbling brook twisting its way through the small valley.

  The gronts had stayed behind in the safety of trees. They not only feared the fiery witch, but they also feared the prospect of their upcoming meeting.

  “What could they possibly want from us before we meet?” she asked.

  “They are there on the other side of the brook waiting for us to do something,” Ra-Corsh answered. He pulled his cloak over his head to cover his forehead and pointed to the other side of the grove where a few goblinoid creatures crawled on their stomachs, inching their way in and out of the bushes.

  He paused and shook his head slightly underneath his cloak. He was frustrated with her impatience and ignorance. How could she have been in this realm as long as she had and know so little? He knew she had most likely touched every inch of this realm at least twice in the time that she had been searching for her beloved birds of fire.

  “How do you not understand these creatures yet? They need proof that we mean business.”

  “I thought you already established that before you left.”

  “I did, but these are stupid creatures, filled with hate and mistrust. You have to gain and regain their allegiance and their trust with every meeting.”

  “Very well,” Fyaa sighed.

  Fire sprang out of her back into the shape of her wings and they began buzzing and crackling as they formed behind her in the shape of hummingbird wings. She raised her hands and lifted off the ground, slowly at first, but then dove head first down the cliff and flew directly above the brook. She stopped short of the grove and hovered three feet off the ground.

  She crossed her legs at her ankles and put her hands on her hips as if taunting the goblins to stand up and attack her while she made an easy target for them.

  “You spineless weaklings, what are you waiting for?” she shouted and she raised herself a little higher and pointed towards the trees. One goblin archer stood up from the bush he was behind, nocked an arrow and shot it towards her. Fyaa raised her left hand and created a firewall that sparked and hissed. Dark smoke twirled above her as she waited until the arrow pierced the wall. It instantly caught fire, turned to ash and drifted to the ground.

  Moaning in frustration, Fyaa turned and flew back to the top of the cliff and pointed at one of Ra-Corsh’s gronts. The gront timidly stepped forward, but then found himself floating in the air towards Fyaa. He started squealing in fear as he was propelled towards her against his will.

  “Shut up!” Fyaa told him.

  She made a fist and then opened it and slapped her hand on her thigh. The gront’s whole body became consumed with fire. He screamed in pain and terror for only a few seconds before his body became limp while it continued to fly across the sky as if it were being dragged.

  “Stop, you damned witch!” Ra-Corsh yelled.

  Ignoring Ra-Corsh, Fyaa grabbed the gront’s body and threw it across the brook and into the grove of trees, catching them on fire as well. All of the goblins then stood up and turned loose a full barrage of arrows and spears towards her.

  Laughing hysterically, Fyaa flew into the fray, dodging all the projectiles.

  “That’s more like it!” she yelled, relieved, and sent a large fireball into the trees.

  Within seconds the brook was filled with hundreds of goblins, some frozen in fear, some swinging and stabbing their swords and spears into the air, not even close to hitting anything. Others shot arrows at her to no avail. Every single one caught fire and disintegrated before reaching her.

  Fyaa flew as fast as a hummingbird in between the goblins, antagonizing them with her flames as she passed by.

  Behind her two gronts were hacking at the base of a large pine tree with their axes. She heard a large snap and a crack as it splintered at its base and fell off the cliff and into the brook. Suddenly there was a bridge from the cliff down to the brook. Excited for the taste of battle, the gronts began running down across the span of the fallen tree and into the fray of battle.

  Fyaa turned to look for Ra-Corsh on the cliff, but did not see him. Gronts and goblins were now in full melee in the brook, and she watched with childish glee as the gronts, to her surprise, fought well and killed most of the goblins they faced with certain ease.

  However, the gronts were still outnumbered twenty to one. She was about to even the odds a bit when she noticed two things simultaneously. The grove where the goblins had once staked their ground had escalated into a full-blown forest fire, but Ra-Corsh and a goblin in full combat armor were somehow standing amongst all the flames. The goblin wore a half helmet, a metal breastplate, and metal leg guards and he hid behind his shield with his short sword ready.

  Ra-Corsh stood a safe distance away from the goblin, but he had his hands above his head. It seemed to Fyaa that he was chanting again, something he did often that absolutely annoyed her. The second thing she noticed infuriated her so badly that she vowed that she would later take her revenge on him. She realized too late that the spell he was summoning was directed towards her. Her personal fire went out and ice consumed her and froze her like a block of ice before she fell with a splash into the brook.

  “I think you have had enough for now, Fyaa!” Ra-Corsh yelled to her as she lay frozen in the brook. Staring at him in rage, she began to work out her revenge.

  The goblin yelled something in a language no on
e except the other goblins could understand, and the fighting stopped. Goblins and gront separated, but all stayed clear of Fyaa and the consuming forest fire.

  Ra-Corsh turned and faced the forest fire and raised his hands again. The smoke from the fire sucked towards him like a vacuum and consumed him, but within seconds the fire began to dull as all the oxygen around the trees dissipated. Ice then began to fall from the sky and knocked all the embers from the pine needles to the ground, soundly putting out the fire.

  The ice block surrounding Fyaa began to thaw and melt away as the water from the brook washed over it. Breaking free, she stood up and tried to call out her wings, but she found she had not yet received her full power so she ran as fast as she could towards Ra-Corsh. Just before she reached him, the goblin warrior had his sword on her chest. She stopped herself just short of running herself through with the top of his sword.

  “What is wrong with you two?” she yelled in rage.

  Ra-Corsh turned around, satisfied that the fire was extinguished.

  “You stupid witch, this is Pencog. We are here to finish what we started with him!”

  “I will kill you before I am through!” she vowed and pointed at the wizard.

  “Then you won’t find your stupid birds,” Ra-Corsh said, shaking his head to mock the obvious. “When we are done with Pencog, he will tell you where your birds are and then you can go. Believe me, I want nothing more than for you to leave my sight. Go bring the girl down here so we can start negotiating.”

  Fyaa took a deep breath and exhaled. She found her power was beginning to return. She called the flames and they began to shoot out from the fine hairs of her body and then the hair on her head took solid flame. The chain mail on her naked body glowed bright orange again. She turned away and walked into the brook, the water hissing with each step she took.

  As she walked, she cursed herself for once again becoming a pawn of the people of the land who should not have been here in the first place. This was her land, her creation, and hers to devastate. She needed partners in order to finish what she had started.

  Why did she always become the fool with these witless inhabitants?

  If only she could return back to the Time Keep and go back in time and start over. This whole task had been one fiasco after another. She needed to take care of this once and for all and wreak havoc and revenge on all the inhabitants of the land this nasty realm had become.

  She began to walk across the fallen pine tree, but halfway up the tree she could feel that that the power of her wings had now fully returned. Fire once again exploded out of her back and her small wings sparkled and hissed and began a loud hum as she lifted herself up to the top of the cliff.

  Aaelie was bound to one of the pine trees. Two gronts stood next to her and went to one knee in submission as Fyaa approached.

  “Cowards!” she said.

  She flew up to them and landed directly in front of the two gronts. Aaelie’s eyes went wide in fear, as well, even though during her capture she had had little contact with Fyaa.

  “Go to your master!” she said and she pointed down at the brook. The gronts immediately rose and scrambled to get away from her.

  “Why must we do this?” Fyaa muttered to herself as she bent over to get a look at the terrified Aaelie.

  Aaelie spat in her face, but began to sob. Fyaa recoiled slightly, repulsed by the girl’s reaction.

  “I show a little compassion, and this is how you show your gratitude?” Fyaa asked as she grabbed Aaelie’s bindings. The ropes around Aaelie’s wrists caught fire when Fyaa put both her hands on them, and the girl screamed as the fire burned her flesh.

  “Oh, does that hurt?” Fyaa asked in mocked compassion.

  She grabbed the ropes on Aaelie’s ankles and burnt those off as well.

  “You’re hurting me!” Aaelie screamed.

  Fyaa grabbed Aaelie’s hair and lifted her to her feet.

  “Shut up, you stupid, pitiful weakling!”

  Aaelie’s hair began to burn in between Fyaa’s fingers and it sizzled as it shriveled up and burned away, curling up into small black knots that looked like black worms as they floated away in the breeze. Fyaa continued to grab new hair to burn as the sizzled hair floated to the ground.

  Aaelie screamed and kicked and tried to free herself from Fyaa’s burning hands. Where Fyaa had touched her neck, just below her left ear, and the back of her head and her face above her chin now all burned badly. She could feel her skin starting to peel away.

  She didn’t panic, though, until she could smell her own skin and hair burning away with every touch. With all of her kicking, Fyaa only held on tighter, and the burns went deeper. Finally, when the skin on the back of her neck peeled off into Fyaa’s hands, Aaelie jerked her head and escaped.

  “Perfect! Run, Aaelie, run!” Fyaa yelled after her.

  Fyaa lifted herself off the ground, flew to Aaelie, grabbed her by the wrist, picked her up and flew off with her now five feet above the ground.

  “You’re burning me!” Aaelie cried.

  Fyaa ignored her screams of pain, flew her back to the brook and held her twenty feet above a surprised Ra-Corsh and Pencog.

  “You want her?” Fyaa yelled above Aaelie’s screams. “Then get her!” she said and she dropped her into the brook.

  Aaelie screamed even louder. She fell into the brook with a splash and a thud. The small boulders sticking out of the shallow water knocked her unconscious.

  “What have you done?” Ra-Corsh yelled as he ran to Aaelie. “We need her unharmed and unspoiled!”

  “Then heal her, wizard.”

  “It is not that simple, witch!” Ra-Corsh yelled at her. He was nearly whining. “I can heal her, but I will need to rest afterwards and I may not be able to return before the ceremony.”

  “Not my problem now, is it wizard?” Fyaa shouted.

  Her wings exploded out of her back and she jumped up like a hawk and flapped her flaming wings. She took to the air and disappeared above the cliff.

  ***

  Ra-Corsh watched as Pencog issued orders to a handful of goblins and they scrambled over to the girl and dragged her out of the brook. Aaelie’s arms and head bounced off boulders before she was pulled along the soft dirt past Ra-Corsh and into the woods. Ra-Corsh thought he heard her moan and she twisted her head as she passed by, and that gave him some hope that he would be able to heal her wounds quickly.

  He needed to work fast, and she needed to heal almost instantly. He knew the importance of her health before the sacrifice of the tribal ceremony. Their god Gralanxth demanded an unspoiled human female sacrifice in order for them to summon his help. If they sacrificed this child properly, they believed Gralanxth would rise again from the Markenhirth and wreak havoc upon the opposing ogre tribe. Pencog had made it clear to Ra-Corsh how important it was that they complete their quest with the girl intact.

  Ra-Corsh also remembered how Torz had months earlier set up this meeting between Pencog and him. Torz had assured Pencog that he would send his young, but talented wizard to help them infiltrate the human village and to steal the young girl.

  “You have two missions to accomplish here,” Torz had said as they stood on the rocky shores of Rae-Om Island.

  Every young acolyte and their warrior charges had looked for the one who had ripped out numerous pages of the Floating Book after his visionary graduation. Holding the pages in his hand, Torz had thanked Ra-Corsh for his deed. He had earned the right to look into the Floating Book, he’d said, by being number one in his class, and he’d told him that the Floating Book held all of the prophecies of the known lands. Many of them contradicted each other, though, as they were
written from both polar extremes of the beliefs of Wrae and those of Kronn. Each had different predictions of the future, but uncannily, both had the same ending. How each side triumphed, though, depended on which side of the belief they were on.

  “You will need to head to the Goblin Tribes Forest and find Pencog,” Torz had told Ra-Corsh. “He will not be hard to find once you enter into the forest. In fact, chances are he will find you. I told him I would send you to him to assist him in raiding a human village and stealing a girl for their sacrifice. Although not just any girl will do, you need to find the girl who is related to Bor Annessie. She is a very distant relation to him through the female line of Traelyn, daughter of the first human king. It should not be hard to figure out who she is. Bor was killed a few years ago, shortly after we were at their village looking for that young mercenary who is hiding in that village. He is the same one I was looking for a few years ago. I just miscalculated when he would be there. Abduct the girl and the mercenary will follow. It should not be hard to do if you plan properly. Make sure the girl is sacrificed and then, first thing during the chaos of the battle, do not hesitate to incapacitate the mercenary, capture him and bring him to me.”

  Torz had paused and looked to Ra-Corsh sternly.

  “Both of these individuals are important to obtaining our goal of releasing the Blue Wraeth. Do you understand?”

  Ra-Corsh had nodded.

  “I want this to happen as much as you do. I understand that we must kill the girl and use the mercenary to manipulate the prophecy to our will.”

  “Good,” Torz said. “You have read the prophecies and now know how important this is to us. Together we will work to complete the destruction of the age of the Markenhirth, and to bring in a new era for us.”

  Ra-Corsh had known he had no choice but to complete the mandate.

  Now, raising his hood, he followed Pencog to their makeshift campsite to begin healing Aaelie. When he approached the camp, the goblins ran towards him and encircled him while chanting in the tribal language, of which Ra-Corsh knew very little. His own gronts were nowhere in sight. Cowards, he thought to himself. Just like them to turn and run when he needed them the most.